


Apocalyptic

by ThymeSprite



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Fun, Inspired by Music, Laundry, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-28
Updated: 2016-01-11
Packaged: 2018-05-09 23:58:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5560891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThymeSprite/pseuds/ThymeSprite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Who'd have thought that the combination of laundry and music could open new possibilities?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Catnoir](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Catnoir/gifts).



> Inspired by Halestorm's "Apocalyptic".  
> (And my growing pile of laundry....)

“Got you, you stinking bastard.”, you mumbled under your breath as you finally, after seemingly endless hours of research, had found the monster one of your hunter-friends was gunning for. Fortunately, you knew that his team was well equipped and that their opponent would be no match for them. You grabbed your cell phone, dialled his number and spoke as soon as he had picked up: “Hank, hey, I found your monster.” 

“Yeah?”, he muttered tiredly and you teased, “Don’t sound so surprised, you know I’m good.” 

“Damn, girl.”, he chuckled, but you then decided to not waste anymore time, “It’s a crossroads demon. The attacks were hellhounds, collecting the debt. Shouldn’t be dangerous for you unless you strike a deal.” 

“I’m planning on it quarter past never.”, Hank replied and with a short grin, you instructed him, “Find the crossroads people use to summon that demonic asshat, should be easy to spot with some dug up dirt in the middle. You can then summon him yourself and gank him.” 

“Got it.”, he replied and in an afterthought, you asked him, “Be careful, okay?” 

“Always are, girl. You know us.” 

“That’s why I told you to be careful.”, you shot back at him and heard him laugh, but then he hung up without a word. No matter, you knew that he would inform you as soon as the demon was dead...however, if you never heard from Hank again, you would also have your answer. 

With a sigh you began putting away all your lore books and wondered what to do, when your gaze met the growing pile of laundry. You had ignored it for days - okay, weeks - and it would soon develop a mind of its own. Well, if you ended up ganked by a laundry demon, you’d at least know who to thank for that, your own laziness. But you just could not bring yourself to care, so instead you opted for some dinner, but just then your cell beeped its cheery tune that was reserved for the one and only Sam Winchester. You laughed happily, grinning at the thought to hear from your friend again, but at the same time your heart pounded in fear. What if he called because something had happened to Dean? 

No, you quickly pushed that thought away, even though it was harder than you cared to admit and instead you answered the phone with a gleeful smirk: “What up, Sammy?” 

“Name’s Sam.”, came his begrudging reply, but you just knew he was smiling under that bitchface you could envision perfectly. 

“Yeah, whatever you say, Sammy.”, you said, wedging your phone between your shoulder and your cheek when you heard Dean’s voice, muffled, from the background, “Shame on you, Sammy. That girl always gives you hell.” 

And cue eye-roll and bitchface at Dean, you just knew it and Dean’s dark chuckle told you that you had been right, dead on. 

“Alright, I’ll be easy on you.”, you then made an offering of peace, “How can I help you , Sam?” 

“Thank you.”, he muttered, letting you hear his grin in his voice, “We are just a few states over, so we could be at your place in - how long, Dean?” 

“Day after tomorrow.”, you heard his brother’s reply and Sam reiterated, “Two days. Would that be okay with you? We’d really appreciate your guest bed, heck, even your couch after all those motels and nights on the road. And...” 

He hesitated and with a groan you said: “Let me guess? All your clothes are dirty?” 

“...Yeah.”, Sam admitted after a too long pause and you glanced at the pile of laundry in your corner. And that was just the one you had not bothered to put in the laundry bin. Oh boy. 

You winced, but then braced yourself and said: “Sure, come on over. What do you wanna eat?” 

“Thanks a bunch.”, Sam said and relayed your question to Dean, but you chipped in before he had a chance to answer, “Apart from the obvious hamburgers, apple pie and salad for you, Sam.” 

“You’re an angel.”, Sam said and you blew raspberries at him, “Gosh darn it, I hope not. Apart from Cas, all angels’ve been dicks so far.” 

“You’d be the glorious exception.”, Dean shouted over the rock music he had turned up, “See you in two days!” 

“Tell your goof of a brother that he’s an idiot.”, you asked Sam and heard him laugh, then you hung up, shaking your head, but smiling. Until you once again looked at the laundry. 

“Oh gosh darn it.”, you cursed quietly and heaved a sigh, then got to work. No way you would let the boys see your crappy housekeeping, nu-huh. The heap of laundry in your living room was soon gone as if it had never even existed, but the one in the bathroom was a whole different story. Take to that a few phone calls that interrupted your household chores because some of the hunters out there needed your extensive collection of lore (and your brains) to solve their cases and you had barely enough time to shop for groceries before the Winchester boys would arrive. Sam alone could eat for three people and he was measured in his urges, but Dean could eat a horse and then some apple pie if no one stopped him. Maybe not even the ongoing apocalypse would stop him, eventually. 

So you answered a few calls in the supermarket, getting weird looks while you were talking about ghosts, ghouls and even a werewolf, but eventually you had made it back home and just when the groceries had been safely stowed away, including a hidden stash so Dean would not eat all the food there was, your last load of laundry was just done. At this rate, you would probably even have time to cram a shower in somewhere. Not that the boys would mind, but you were still a lady after all. 

Laundry was not exactly your favourite thing in the world, but music made everything better and so you turned your stereo up to blast some Halestorm, because hey, why not? Fishing for one of your tops in the laundry basket, you enjoyed the beat and quietly sang along.

 

_I wear my nine-inch heels when we go to bed_  
I paint the colour of my lips blood red  
I get so animal like never before  
So you press play and I hit record 

 

Somehow, you thought of their music as the girly version to Dean’s classic rock. Maybe it was not, but it always made you fell good and anything that could make a hunter smile these days was more than welcome.

 

_'Cause we're dysfunctional physical_  
Always slamming doors  
You're a bitch, throwing fits  
Always waging wars  
Me and you,  
Sad but true  
We're not us anymore  
But there's still one thing we're good for 

 

You giggled when the verse made you think of Dean. Yeah, Sammy had the perfect bitchface, but Dean could be a whiny bitch if he went unchecked. 

Still you loved them both for exactly who they were, mistakes and flaws and all. It was what made them Sam and Dean and that made you love them with all your heart. 

Okay, so maybe you loved Dean a little more, but...who could blame you?

_I'll give you one last night_  
So make it twisted  
Give you one last shot, go on and hit it  
Give you one last time to make me miss it  
Baby, love me apocalyptic  
Come on! 

 

No one could blame you for that, you decided, and happy with that decision you sang along happily and loudly, swaying your hips to the music and fully enjoying yourself. 

_Give me a red hand print right across my ass_  
I'm leaving scratches up and down your back  
Throw me against the wall, bite me on my neck  
Like end of the world, break-up sex 

 

By now you were dancing without any restraint and when it was mentioned in the song, you smirked and smacked your own ass in lack of someone to do it for you. With an almost graceful twirl you threw the last item of clothing, a black pantie, onto the laundry rack and just as the verse ended, you turned around...and stopped dead in your tracks, mortified. 

There in the doorway stood Sam and Dean. Sam was blushing furiously and coughing, trying desperately to clear his throat, Dean was grinning like the stupid oaf he was...and the music was still blaring on. 

You hastened over to the stereo and shut it off, much to Dean’s protest: “Hey, why’d you do that? I’d like to see the rest of the show!” 

That shit-eating grin of his made you glare daggers at him, but of course it did not vanish. Poor Sammy in the background seemed as if he would rather stand at the gates of Hell itself than in your living room right now, so you decided to ignore Dean for the moment and instead smiled at his brother: “Hi, Sam, nice to see you alive and well. Care for a salad?” 

“Y-yes, please.”, he nodded, obviously relieved to have a topic far away from dancing and he positively fled to the kitchen. Coward. 

You narrowed your eyes at his broad back and asked Dean over your shoulder, without looking at him: “How long have you two been standing there?” 

“Long enough, sweetheart.”, he chuckled, but you threatened, “I have a shotgun.” 

Still you could hear his grin as he replied: “Long enough to know you have a great ass that simply has to be smacked.” 

That was all the warning you got before his hand connected with your backside and a loud clap resounded through your now silent living room. In fact, the clap was so loud that Sam turned around to look at the two of you, but Dean just went past you, grinning like a moron and joined Sam in the kitchen. From there, that oaf had the nerve to ask: “Hey, didn’t you say something about some pie, sweetheart?” 

Saying this, he winked at you suggestively and you knew that he was not talking about the apple pie in your fridge. 

“Dude?”, Sam asked him in a shocked whisper and nudged his shoulder, “What the hell?” 

“Relax, Sammy.”, Dean merely told him and then simply went to your fridge to help himself to some dinner. Mentally you cursed him, but then you put on a sweet smile and joined the two of them, getting out the salad for Sam and serving them both beer. Dean was all the while smiling at you, half the time suggestively, but you merely smiled sweetly back, lulling him into a false sense of security. 

Payback would be a bitch, though.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had an idea for the reader's payback and it was once again inspired by a song by Halestorm.  
> Have fun!

The next morning you were woken by a loud crash and immediately you were wide awake. 

“What the f...?”, you whispered to yourself, lying in your bed, mentally already coming up with a plan to incapacitate the intruder and hand him over to the cops. But then you remembered last night. 

“Oh for eff’s sake...”, you mumbled to yourself and heard another crash from downstairs, presumably your kitchen. Dean Winchester was on the loose, probably making a late breakfast and wreaking havoc in your kitchen while he was at it. 

“Damn.” 

You had no choice, you had to face the music, so you got out of bed, but you bought yourself a little respite from the inevitable and switched on some music to wake up while you got dressed. And just as you reached for the comfy sweat pants, Halestorm came on. 

“I love you, Lzzy.”, you grinned wickedly as you had an equally wicked idea. You knew just how to get back at Dean. 

So instead of the comfy sweatpants, you dug through your closet to find the one pair of jeans that made your ass look absolutely fabulous. Dean had thought last night’s pants had made it look good? Boy, he was in for a surprise. Then you pulled on a bra that did the very same to your cleavage and happy with the result, you donned a skin-tight, black tank-top over it, actually impressed with how much your breasts were pushed up by that. You had not thought you had that in you. 

To top it all off, you slipped into your favourite plaid shirt, but instead of buttoning it down, you simply knotted the sides together, which further accentuated your hips in those jeans and your cleavage. Damn, that outfit did wonders on you! 

Nodding at your reflection in the mirror and deeply impressed by yourself, you smiled and then headed down to the kitchen. So maybe you would have to eat a bit less than normal, given the jeans were tight, but getting payback would be totally worth it. 

When you were just about to round the corner, you heard another loud bang and wondered what on Earth Dean was doing to your kitchen, but when you decided to storm in and ask, you ran into Sam. 

“Oh, sorry, Y/N, I...oh...”, he stuttered, but then his words became incoherent and he was blushing furiously. 

“Good morn’ to ya, Sammy.”, you wished him and he did not even react to the nickname, so you knew something was up. And judging from his absolutely flabbergasted expression and how his wide eyes lingered on certain parts of your body, you had a good idea what that little something was that was up. Or maybe it was also a bit bigger, Sam was a big guy after all. 

Grinning like the Cheshire Cat itself, you asked him: “Like what you see?” 

“Damn, sorry, that’s...sorry!”, he babbled, but you stopped him with a genuine smile, “It’s okay, I’ll take it as a compliment.” 

“That’s what it is...!”, Sam quickly assured you, “It’s just...damn, Y/N, I never knew you even had that kind of clothing, let alone...would want to wear it.” 

“On occasion.”, you smirked, thinking that the occasion was giving Dean a figurative slap on the wrist, but Sam did not need to know that. So you left him standing there and went to the kitchen, but you were sure that Sam was staring at your tushie. In fact, you were betting your life on it. 

As you heard him awkwardly clear his throat behind you, quiet laughter erupted from your mouth and you were absolutely positive that if Sam had been staring, Dean would probably be drooling. Good, that was exactly what you wanted...for the moment. 

“Hey, sweetheart, what has you in such a good mood?”, Dean asked as you rounded the corner and saw him flipping a pancake, but the poor pancake was abandoned and utterly forgotten once Dean had spotted you. 

“And whoa, where did you hide that gorgeousness for all those years?!”, he asked, holding the pan in an awkward angle and when Sam entered the kitchen behind you, Dean asked him without looking at his brother, “Did you know that she was hiding that?” 

“We always knew she’s pretty, every idiot can see that.”, Sam said and you smiled at him, “Aw, thank you, Sammy.” 

With that you turned back to Dean and sternly told him, “That pancake won’t jump up on the counter and into the trashcan all by its lonely self, you know.” 

“Yeah, I hear ya.”, he mumbled with a sultry smile at you, but then he whistled sharply, “Oi, Sammy, eyes on her face! I thought you were a gentleman.” 

Sam cleared his throat again, but to your pleasant surprise, he shot back: “Between the two of us, of course I’m the gentleman. A grizzly seems civilized next to you.” 

“Just remember, I saw her first. So hands off. And eyes too.”, Dean replied and Sam scoffed, but you merely grinned. That idiot was walking right into your trap. 

“Relax, no need to fight.”, you then tried to assuage them as they were sending death glares at each other, “At least let’s eat some breakfast before we do anything else.” 

“Clever lady.”, Dean praised and you had to force a smile onto your face for your reply, “I’m not just a pretty face.” 

“But you are a pretty face, too.”, Dean countered and served you pancakes. You could live with having him in your thrall, but you knew he would be getting ideas sooner or later, probably rather sooner, so you just wanted your plan to get in motion and judging from the suggestive smiles Dean was constantly sending your way, you thought it would be almost ridiculously easy. 

So breakfast passed and Sam was the only one making decent conversation with you, but you had to admit that he was a bit slower than usual with his replies. Dean was... well, Dean, what else had you expected? It just served your plan well, so you went along with it, even allowed him to put an arm around you after breakfast and pull you a tad too close to his side, just a bit too forcefully. 

Sam was seething, but you just gave him a reassuring smile and he frowned, but then his eyes widened and there was a hint of a grin on his face. Well, he had always been the smarter brother, so you guessed he had at least figured out the direction of your plan. 

“So, sweetheart.”, Dean positively purred into your ear and let his hand wander up your arm surprisingly gently, “We could take this somewhere quieter, more private. What do you say?” 

“Dean!”, you feigned shock and frankly, you were a bit insulted that he actually thought that line would work on you just because you had dressed a bit differently today. 

“C’mon, don’t be shy.”, he smirked, “Sam’s a big boy, he can do without us babysitting him for a few minutes. Or, you know, an hour or two.” 

You chuckled, impressed by his boldness and then, whispering breathlessly, you said: “Okay.” 

“Let’s go.”, Dean breathed into your neck and placed a quick kiss on your cheek, then he grabbed your hand and bolted upstairs with you. 

“Hey, what...?!”, you heard Sam ask, but Dean shouted over his shoulder, “No time, Sammy! Go find a book or something!” 

He laughed out loud at this and you giggled along, even though you were silently asking yourself why on Earth Sam had not whacked his older brother over the head yet.

But that was a question for later, right now, you had Dean on your hands and you were hell-bent on payback. 

Dean opened the very first door the two of you passed, but you just gave him the stink-eye. A bathroom, seriously? 

“C’mon, sweetheart.”, he then grinned down at you, “It’s either that room, whatever it is, or we really gotta hurry.” 

You pouted, squeezed his hand and stretched a bit to whisper into his ear, all for show: “But I wanna do something special with you.” 

“Special, huh?”, he showed you a wide, admittedly breathtaking smile, “Why? I got you.” 

Well, that was sweet of him to say, but it would foil your plan. You could not have that. Still with that bright smile on his beautiful lips, Dean leaned in to you and had almost planted his lips on yours in a kiss when you managed to stop him by putting your fingertips onto his lips. Damn, they were soft...and warm. 

“Bed’s more comfy, though.”, you supplied and nudged him backwards in the direction of your bedroom. 

“We can agree on that, sweetheart.”, he murmured and pulled you with him as he went, suddenly very sure of where your bedroom was. As soon as you were both inside, he shut the door by pushing you against it and even before you could have done anything, his lips were on your neck. He was a quick son of a bitch and crazy good hunter - and kisser, apparently - but if you let him get away with this, you’d be damned. So you decided to use his eagerness against him, at least in a manner of speaking. You grabbed the sides of Dean’s shirt and pushed him off so that he stumbled backwards and planted his fine ass smack onto your chair. At first he seemed startled, but when you followed him and stood between his thighs, he smiled: “Who’d have thought you’d be so eager.” 

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Winchester.”, you whispered, letting your breath ghost over his cheek and you felt him wince at that, his hands coming up to grab your hips, “So let me show you something.” 

Saying that, you grabbed his wrists and quickly pulled them behind his back, using the handcuffs from your pocket and the scarf that had been on your chair to bind them there, effectively immobilizing him. 

“Huh?”, he asked, quite dumbly, but you grinned wickedly and traced his lips with one finger, “I’m a hunter. You can’t be surprised that I have handcuffs.” 

“Well, no, but...”, he protested, but you shushed him, “Just enjoy.” 

He nodded, even though he seemed a bit hesitant, especially as you stepped away from him, but when you approached your stereo, a dirty grin spread across his lips. Aww, dear Dean thought he was in for a treat, but in fact it was a trick. But he did not need to know that, yet. 

So when the beat of the song filled your dimly lit room and the bass and drums strummed through you, you began to dance. 

_In the daylight,_  
I'm your sweetheart,  
You're goody-two-shoes prude is a work of art.  
But you don't know me,  
And soon you won't forget,  
Bad as can be, yeah you know I'm not so innocent 

_Better beware I go bump in the night,_  
Devil-may-care with a lust for life,  
And I know you,  
Can't resist me,  
Soon though you  
Are so addicted.  
Boy you better run for your life! 

_Welcome to the nightmare in my head,_  
(Oh god!)  
Say hello to something scary,  
The monster in your bed,  
(Oh god!)  
Just give in and you won't be sorry,  
Welcome to my other side,  
Hello it's Mz. Hyde! 

You had always loved that song, it spoke of raw energy and power, but for today, there was also a message in it, a message Dean, to his misfortune, did not seem to get. 

When you looked at him over your shoulder, you smirked, because he was really absolutely oblivious to that message. Instead he was much too busy trying to stay comfortable and you saw him shifting awkwardly in his seat, trying to find a position in which his jeans would not be too tight. Well, good luck with that, you thought and rolled your hips a bit more, just for good measure. 

You smirked when you heard Dean cough behind you and once you were sure you could manage to keep a straight face, you turned around to him and slowly stripped off your plaid shirt as the next verse began.

 

_I can be the bitch,_  
I can play the whore,  
Or your fairytale princess who could ask for more.  
A touch of wicked,  
A pinch of risk-ay,  
Good girl gone bad, my poison is your remedy 

_Better be scared, better be afraid,_  
Now that the beast is out of her cage,  
And I know you,  
Wanna risk it,  
Soon though you  
Are so addicted.  
Boy you better run for your life! 

He had no idea about the danger he was in, he was utterly clueless. Splendid! 

You stretched to allow your tanktop to ride up your waist, thereby exposing some of your skin there and you saw Dean’s eyes dart to your skin, followed by him licking his lips hungrily. At that point you had to throw in another twirl, because you could not look him in the eye any longer and laugh in his face. You allowed yourself a second of mirth, but then it was time for the final phase of your plan. 

You glanced at Dean and you were pleased that the predatory look you had hoped to achieve had actually startled him. You then reached for a black, soft scarf which you knew was still carrying your perfume and armed with it, you stalked over to Dean, swinging your hips more than strictly necessary and when you sat on his lap, you ground down on him on purpose. A groan escaped him and you were actually surprised at how effective your little dance had been. 

You let the soft fabric of the scarf glide over Dean’s cheeks, saw him deeply inhale the scent of your perfume that was still clinging to it, then you leaned back to watch him as you silently mouthed the words of the song.

 

_I'm the spider crawling down your spine,_  
Underneath your skin.  
I will gently violate your mind,  
Before I tuck you in.  
Put on the blindfold  
There's no way to be sure,  
Which girl you'll get to know! 

You put the scarf around Dean’s eyes, blocking what little light there was in your room and then, along with the song, whispered in his ear: “It’s me, Y/N, I swear.” 

You felt him turn his head, presumably to kiss you, but you quickly pulled back and hopped off his lap, giggling. 

“Oh, c’mon, you tease.”, Dean laughed, but you gently slapped his knee and dreamily told him, “Boy, I haven’t even started yet.” 

You saw his smile falter and still giggling, you hopped back to your stereo to change the playlist. 

“Have fun!”, you wished him, then you left your room and locked it from the outside, laughing loudly and relishing Dean’s angry shouts, “You come back here, Missy, this instant!” 

“Uhm, how about no?”, you shot back, laughing over the music and then happily bounced down the stairs. Once downstairs, you were instantly met with Sam’s confused frown, but he was also grinning lopsidedly as he asked: “Okay, what exactly did you do?” 

You burst out laughing and had to lean on him as you struggled to breathe, so Sam chuckled: “That good, huh? Let’s get a beer and you can tell me.” 

You just managed a nod and while he got the beers, you heard Dean shouting in your bedroom, angry threats alternating with desperate pleas. It had you burst out into fits of giggles that had Sam shaking his head and he was already halfway through his beer when you took the first big gulp of yours to moisten your throat, dry from laughing so much. 

“Well, you saw my attire and yes, it was just to draw Dean’s attention so that he would be stupid enough to try and talk me into...whatever he’d call it.”, you began your explanation and Sam sighed, “For a moment there you had me worried you might have actually fallen for that routine.” 

“Oi, you know me better than that.”, you accused and he nodded, then held up his beer bottle and you let the bottles clink, “That I do indeed.” 

You both drank and then you finished your explanation: “So I handcuffed him to a chair and blindfolded him in a locked room upstairs in which is now playing a five hour playlist of Nickelback, Miley Cyrus and Taylor Swift.” 

Sam burst out laughing at this, almost fell off the couch and as soon as he looked at you, he began to laugh all over again. 

“Hell, Y/N, I never thought you could be so cruel.”, he chuckled and you nonchalantly shrugged, “Payback’s a bitch.”


End file.
